


All aboard!

by universedaydreams



Series: Train line universe [1]
Category: Anthropomorfic, London Underground - Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Adding tags as I go along, Basically I personified London Underground train lines because I have no life, Flashbacks, London, London Underground, Multi, Personification, Trains, just think of hetalia and it will make sense, they all have normal human names which I use very often, this isn’t really plot based just general character introductions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-04-20 06:28:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14254965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/universedaydreams/pseuds/universedaydreams
Summary: The city of London is so large and diverse. Surely you would expect it to have some secrets?Bit anticlimactic that it’s about London’s transport though.





	1. The Metropolitan Railway

Mary Fay Pearson gets a train from Harrow on the hill station nearly every day. Her destination changes all the time, one day she’s on the way to Amersham and another she’s on route Aldgate. She never speaks to any of the commuters at the station, it’s common London courtesy after all but once a while she may tell a fascinated child stories about the old metropolitan railway and how it revolutionised transport. How it was the worlds first underground railway system and how it ran through London, greatly serving it customers. She spoke so proudly almost as if she had been there herself but that’s silly isn’t it?

The metropolitan railway had opened in the Victorian era and Mary Fay Pearson looked like she was barely pushing thirty. Not a single strand of grey was found in her brown hair, always styled in a bun and her fair face never showed any signs of wrinkling. The clothes she wore, a white button up shirt with short sleeves, with a thin black ribbon around the collar, a maroon vest, a plain black pencil skirt and a pair of brown doc martens, were not old fashioned. 

Most deduced her tales about the old railway were due to an avid interest in transport. Some speculated she worked for the London Underground and was spreading these tales to get children interested in working for TfL in the future. The tiny minority of those who suggested she may be immortal were quickly shunned and labelled as nut jobs. It was outlandish to suggest the idea, Mary Fay Pearson was just an ordinary woman just trying to entertain children, a young looking woman, a good looking woman and a woman who did not have an old fashioned dress sense. Those who said this always forgot one detail though.

Mary’s eyes were tired and not tired in the sense she had not gotten any sleep. They were tired in the way that they had seen so much, like the eyes of the ancient old man who you would always find in the local pub. Those who believed in those ‘crazy conspiracy theories’ always used her eyes as evidence, no matter the circumstance.

Mary Fay Pearson never answered any questions. She ignored them and got on with her day like any other. No one knew who she was and she was content with that. It was a government secret after all and besides no would believe her. 

Less than a handful of people really knew who she was. They didn’t call her Mary Fay Pearson. Instead they called her Metropolitan.


	2. The Metropolitan District Railway

Damien Green likes to hang around Tower Hill. He likes the busy and chaotic vibe it gives off and he likes to chuckle at the confused tourists that roam the area. Whenever he’s there he sits near the river.

Damien Green has seen a lot of things, most of which have convinced him that life is shit and that God is not real, you know, the standard pessimistic stuff. Despite the chaos that lay nearby, he finds peace contemplating by the river. 

Damien always thinks back to another London. A London that used to excite him, a London he used to love to explore. Everyday he’d find something new, until it got to the point he’d seen nearly every part of the city. Then it became familiar to him and he moved onto other things. One day he was a train driver, the next a police officer. Anything to keep him from being bored.

London kept changing though and he desperately tried to keep up. Even soon he had changed. He was no longer the Metropolitan District railway, he had eventually become the District line. Him being part of the underground had given him new friendships though. Without the change he wouldn’t have gotten as close with Piccadilly and Bakerloo as he had done. 

Being part of the Underground couldn’t bring him close to everyone though. Metropolitan never really liked him, even though they had been through many years of struggles together. Damien had always been nice to her and so was very intrigued by her raging hatred towards  
him. Sure, they may have been competing railways before but that was in the 19th century, a long while ago. Metropolitan was and still is very stubborn, no matter what Damien does her view of him will never change, he’s learnt to accept that. Despite this, her insults had always somewhat hurt Damien. Sure, he could be an egotistical prick at times but he wasn’t that bad. Recently though he’s been feeling energetic, most likely from the new trains his line got and so has found the energy to say some insults back. He doesn’t mean them, it’s really just a bit of harmless fun.

Damien sometimes wishes he could be that starry eyed young man again, dressed in expensive Victorian clothing with a love for discovering the unique oddities of London but there he was now, a saddo sitting next to the River Thames all alone. He runs a hand through his dark brown hair and takes a look at the river with his worn green eyes before he leaves. He blends into the crowds, a man who looks to be in his late twenties or early thirties, wearing a light green shirt, a dark green over shirt, brown trousers and black boots that nearly reach his knees. That’s the only thing that hasn’t changed, Damien has always liked to wear boots, other than that he adapts to every change better than he believes. 

Unlike those like Metropolitan and Bakerloo he actually knows and kind of understands what the kids find cool nowadays. He’s always encouraged new technology and despite not knowing how all of it works he welcomes it with open arms. He had always been a more ‘modern person’ in the Victorian times. He didn’t care about religion and he didn’t find seeing women’s ankles disgraceful or sexual in the slightest.

Before walking into Tower Hill station he calls Circle to see how she and Hammersmith & City are.


	3. Hammersmith and Circle

Charlotte Danielle Morton isn’t really doing much. It’s a Sunday, nothing interesting is going on. She’s unbelievably bored, sitting on the sofa flicking through the channels on the tv, unable to find anything to watch. She’s still in her pyjamas and her blonde hair is a complete mess. 

She sighs, her tall and lanky boyfriend, Henry Smith, has gone out to the local Tesco’s to buy some more milk but she knows he’ll probably end up buying some useless tat instead. Either that or he’d end up in a fight and end up being seriously injured.

Henry’s had a though past, for years he lived alone not knowing who he truly was. When he was just a child more than a hundred years ago he got lost and never found his way back home. Mary, the one taking care of him at the time, never found him. It was almost like something right out of Oliver Twist, somewhat amusing but also terrifying. They had lost each other in a bustling market, far too crowded and busy. Henry was just lucky that a kind widow had taken him in after finding him alone near Hammersmith station crying. It was only until the 90s Henry was reunited with everyone and finally had found some happiness. He finally knew who he was always meant to be, the Hammersmith and city line, only being added on the map in 1990, previously being part of the Metropolitan line.

Charlotte meanwhile, was brought up by Damien. There was no denying to her, that Damien was the best father like figure she could ever have, even being a better parent than the somewhat motherly Mary, though this was mostly likely because he hadn’t lost her. He was also very honest, being upfront to Charlotte about her status as a personification, a fact that Mary didn’t tell to Henry to try and give him a proper childhood. She did had good intentions but it really did backfire on her. 

Charlotte waited for years to get some recognition, then finally in 1949 she was there on the map, her own line, the circle line. Even though she had existed from 1884, she wasn’t really her own separate line or railway. Just the inner circle of two already existing railways. It was only then in 1949 she met everyone else. It’s a memory she seems to think back to often, something she’ll never forget. Especially when Damien had too much to drink and fell in the Thames.

The two got together officially in the 90s, though it wasn’t the first time they had met. Back in World War Two they had known each other, not knowing the one thing they had in common. It was only when Charlotte had believed that Henry had died in an air raid they stopped seeing each other. Of course, Henry hadn’t actually died (well technically he did but only for a couple of minutes) and knowing that Charlotte had thought he was dead, did not want to contact her again, feeling it was better to let her live a happy life without him.

Charlottes daydreaming is abruptly interrupted when the front door opens and Henry walks in carrying a large box. Having gotten up from the sofa to greet him, Charlotte immediately sees the box. Henry smirks smugly, with a devilish look in his chestnut eyes that match his hair, then puts the box down and puts the milk he also bought away.

Suddenly Charlotte gets a call from Damien. She answers it, still looking at the large box on the table.

“How are you?” Damien asks, “Anything interesting happening?”

Charlotte sighs, “Well, Henry’s just bought a kiddie pool.”

“But you live in a flat, you don’t have a garden.”

“You know Henry’s a bit of an idiot.”

Henry, having overheard, slightly offended sarcastically mumbles out a “love you too” before bending over to reach his very short girlfriend to give her a kiss on the forehead. 

Well, at least this day was not boring anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lads. I finally posted after ten years. Anyway, I have an Instagram @kelpysart where I sometimes post drawing of these characters, though at the moment there’s not much. If you’re interested it’d be great if you had a look. 
> 
> See you in another ten years when I update again.


End file.
